


Inn

by yeaka



Series: Want [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: The inn’s full, but Hino has a bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Just got BotW and going through all the NPCs I pass.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Wild horses are stomping craters into the moon, and it all makes sense now—of _course_ that’s why those vile creatures come out at night; they’re only trying to protect the moon’s silk-smooth surface, but they do it only under a veil of darkness so no one sees their truth passion for the lunar—

Hino grunts, scrunching up his face, and the horse nearest him flickers in and out of existence, startling the rest. In a stampede of solar dust, they storm away, and Hino’s rocked back and forth in the vacuum, until he realizes what’s really happening—he’s only dreaming, and the moon makes no more sense than it did yesterday. 

With a languid yawn, he lets himself stir, blinking up through the relative darkness of the Dueling Peaks Inn. Through the far off doors, the starlight slips in, painting the side of a short blond leaning over Hino’s bed. The man’s blue eyes widen at Hino’s open gaze, and his hands quickly withdraw. He gives Hino a small, apologetic smile, which Hino silently translates to: _sorry for waking you._

He has to do a lot of that with Link, or at least, has had to in their few short meetings since Link came to the stables. Link’s barely said more than a single word to anyone, and even Hino only knows his name from overhearing it during the registering of a horse. It was Link’s first horse, he thinks—caught only an hour after arrival. Link’s a quick study. It gives Hino hope that Link’s discovered things that Hino never could, and maybe that’s the reason for shaking him back to the waking world. 

Rubbing at one tired eye and clamping down on another yawn, Hino greets, “It’s good to see you again. Only when the sleepiness is adequately suppressed does Hino push to sit up properly, asking, “Do you have any more information on the Blood Moon?” He tries to keep his voice casual, though he’s sure some of his enthusiasm’s seeped in.

Disappointingly, Link just shakes his head. He hesitates, parting his lips like he’s going to say _something_ , but then he settles on the corner of the mattress instead, politely out of Hino’s space—these cots are relatively narrow. Link closes his mouth again a second later, and it draws Hino’s eyes to the movement. On a double take, he realizes that there’s a small split on the side, and a scratch higher on Link’s cheek. It’s hard to see in the low light, but now that Hino knows what he’s looking for, he does a quick sweep of Link’s handsome form, trying not to linger too long on the enticing shape but just the details—a cut here, a bruise there, the fraying of fabric where a sword might’ve grazed it.

Already knowing the answer, Hino asks, “Were you out there all night?” Link dawns another sheepish smile, the affectation horribly cute for someone so brave and wild. Hino makes a conscious effort not to get sucked in. “I told you to be careful out there!” The last part drops into a hiss; he remembers belatedly that the room’s still full of sleeping patrons. He still hasn’t figured out why he’s the only one Link woke.

Then he realizes just _how_ full the inn is, and as he scans the place, Link plucks quietly at his covers. He slept on top of them, like most of the patrons—makes it easier to spring out again, on the off chance the Blood Moon brings monsters roaring through. When Hino’s taken in the complete lack of empty beds, he returns to Link’s soft face, and Link gives him a gentle, pleading look that has the heat rushing to his cheeks. 

For once, he understands why Link isn’t saying it aloud. It’s an embarrassing favour to ask. But it’s not hard to choose an answer: Link’s as easy to sit with as he is to look at, and he’s probably just as good to lie next to. He’s small, even with all his taut muscles, and shouldn’t take up too much space. Hino shuffles pointedly back across the mattress, as close to the other edge as possible, just barely giving enough room for a second body. Link’s smile is dazzling; his golden hair may as well be made of liquid stars.

He has a plethora of equipment to deal with, and as he strips it off, Hino lies back down and tries not to stare. He means to close his eyes, and he does, mostly, but still sees a sliver out the corner. He watches Link unclasp everything and lay it next to the bed, then pull off his boots, then pull out his ponytail. He finger-combs through it, while Hino battles a twinge of envy; he wouldn’t mind being the one to brush Link’s hair. He normally saves his energy and interest for more important things—research and pursuit of the moon and all it brings—but Link shines brighter than all of that. Link stretches out with a tiny sigh, his voice lilting and relieved, and then he settles down onto his side. He gives Hino a fine smile, too sweet for words, then curls up to sleep.

Hino purposely rolls onto his other side. He’ll never make it otherwise. He shuts his eyes tight and starts counting stars in a red night. He half hopes that Link obnoxiously snores or squirms and kicks.

But alas, Link’s more perfect than any moon could ever be.


End file.
